I have no idea what I'm going to end up writing about, but it's 7:30 at the office and I figured, it's now or never.
That's 7:30 AM people. I'm barely concious and yet I'm writing to you! Feel blessed. Or something. Or not.
It started snowing. Lots. the juxtaposition of my bamboo plants against the snow falling outside looks a little surreal. Bear with me, like I said, I'm barely concious.
This being said, I'm only here because Mr. Jazzz didn't go to the gym this morning and starts at 8:00. He gave me a lift, so here i am at 7:30. Before editing that said "he gave me a life" Freudian slip? bwwaaahahaahahaha
Am I rambling? Am I totally incoherent? I guess I'll find out when I read this entry again at noon or something. (NOTE: after re-reading this entry so far before putting it out there, I conclude that yes, I am totally incoherent).
Why do I love my mom-in-law? I have the bestest MIL in the world. Case in point:
Yesterday evening Mr. Jazz had his Xmas party at work. I get home, 15 or so minutes later my MIL calls, wondering if I had started making my dinner. This, of course, this is a totally ridiculous question. Mr. Jazz isn't here and I'd cook? Um, I don't think so. He is the cook, and I'd start cooking just for me? I was figuring on snarfing down a pot of tea and a box of cookies. At 44, I don't think I'll morph into a gourmet cook on a whim. Which I told her. To which she answered, well I made too much for myself, want to come down and get yourself a plate?
It was Shepherd's Pie. Now I'm usually not a jumping up and down fan of SP, but hey, beggars can't be choosers and hers IS on the higher end of the enthusiasm-for-SP spectrum.
She had a plateful ready for me (heated even!!!), and as she had already eaten I took it up to our place and ate it watching Survivor. Life is good.
The woman is a saint. A SAINT I say.
*********SURVIVOR SPOILER ALERT
Speaking of Survivor. Of COURSE Cindy was voted off. She kept the car for herself instead of giving one each to all the others. And she thought they wouldn't vote her ass off? People are jealous. People are petty. People feel they are entitled to a car because that would be 4 people getting new cars as opposed to just the one who actually won it. Besides, now she has a car, she doesn't need a million bucks.
So goes the curse of the car.
I'm off to the cafeteria to get a muffin. A double chocolate muffin. To hell with a healthy breakfast.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmm scrumptuous. Of course, I can see the fat migrating to my butt and arteries as we speak, but hell, I deserve a break today and McDonalds just doesn't to it for me.
Why do I deserve a break?
- It's snowing. Hard. Thus rivers of slush are to be expected in the streets later.
- I'm working tomorrow. Again.
- And.... ok, and nothing more. Actually I don't deserve anything. I just WANTED a damn double chocolate muffin. So there!
MMMMMMMMMMM again. I just hit the best part. The top, the crunchy part. Everyone knows you have to eat the bottom part of the muffin first and keep the crunchier part for the end. I mean, Really! There is simply no other way to eat a muffin.
It's sort of like eating an Oh Henry bar. First you half unwrap it. Then you nibble off all the chocolate and peanuts until you're left only with the "creamy fudge centre". Then you pull it out of the half wrapper and stick the fudge end into the wrapper, exposing the chocolate and peanuts on the other end. Repeat the nibbling step. Be sure to clean off all the peanut bits. Eat the fudge. End of Oh Henry bar. Oh, and if you're really getting into it, it might look a little, um, erotic - or so I've been told. Try not to do it in front of your smarmy colleague, comments will ensue. Guaranteed.